Kind Words
by Princess Dystopia
Summary: Until the night of his brother's bachelor party, Gaara never understood men's actions. Strange thoughts arise as he comes across a girl from his past and he learns kind words can help more than one person. GaaraxOC one-shot. M for sexual themes.


Well, I got this idea while waiting to get my senior pictures taken. There was a show on TV about night clubs, drugs, and prostitution, and this is what came out of that! ^^

Enjoy and review, please~

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><p>The young Kazekage had no idea why exactly he was there, watching his older brother from the bar dance behind girls with a drink in his left hand while his other snaked its way around their hips, his fingers tracing the tops of their shorts.<p>

Gaara sighed, rubbing his temples in hopes of forcing away the headache that was pounding in rhythm of the vulgar music that surrounded more than a hundred sweaty bodies that filled the room. Why was he there? Kankuro knew this was his type of environment, not Gaara's.

But he had to be there. It was Kankuro's bachelor party, after all. The next day, the man of twenty-one would be wed to a girl three years younger than him and who was probably already pregnant. Deep down in his heart, Gaara knew it wouldn't be a faithful marriage. If he was trying to hook up with girls this close to the wedding, there's no way Kankuro would be able to stay with just a single girl, even if there was a possibility of him being a father.

Again, why was he there? There was nothing of interest to Gaara there. It was a club, packed with people, which was a place that was foreign to him. Although he was the leader of the village, he was still underage, so any sort of alcohol was off-limits to him. That was fine, though. Gaara didn't particularly enjoy the taste of the stuff.

"Gaara!" Kankuro called, his voice somewhat slurred, as he made his way to the bar area where his younger brother sat bored. "You havin' fun, man? We need to find you a lady. Look at all these hot pieces of ass, dude. Pick one, okay? I'll work my charm for you."

Kankuro slammed his empty glass on the counter, swinging his arm around Gaara's shoulder. As the words "ass," "dude," and "charm" (Kankuro had flexed his fingers at this word, which Gaara inconspicuously moved away from. He had a pretty good idea of where those fingers had recently been.) came from his mouth, it became obvious of just how drunk he already was.

"We should be going soon," Gaara replied, raising his voice over the music. "I'm sure Nanako is worried about you."

"Ah, she's fine, man! Temari took her out shopping, remember? You drunk or something?"

"Not even close," he mumbled.

"Dude, come with me." Without permission, Kankuro took hold of his brother's wrist, pulling him toward a secluded area of the club. A rounded couch stood proudly with a very attractive girl standing near it.

As Gaara came closer, he recognized her as Meyako Keta, a girl who had attended the academy with him all those years ago. Her soft blue eyes looked worn and her brown hair stuck to her neck, back, and face with sweat.

Kankuro released him and moved to Keta, whispering something in her ear. Trying to hide it (and failing), he slipped a large amount of money in her hand. He returned to Gaara and patted his back, telling him to enjoy himself before snaking his way back into the crowd of women.

"Hello, Lord Kazekage," Keta said with a soft smile as she grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the couch.

Gaara didn't reply. Instead, he analyzed what little clothing she wore. A pair of shorts, showing off her long legs, and a bra was all she sported.

Without realizing it, he had been pushed back onto the cushioned seat. Keta gave him a sly smirk and placed her hands on his legs. He noticed her palms were dangerously close to an area only he had ever had access to, except those who had once changed his diapers.

"Relax, Gaara," she told him. "I'll take care of you."

Gaara's eyes strayed down to her breasts. That damned bra could barely contain them. Something hard began pulling at his pants and his fingernails dug into the couch.

As her hips started to sway and she popped the buttons on her shorts, his teeth bit down hard into his lower lip. What the hell was this? Why was she doing this? What was he supposed to _do?_

His gaze followed the small piece of denim as it hit the floor, revealing a tiny piece of cloth that he knew was called a thong. He knew Temari owned a few of those because she often left them in the hallway when strange men were brought home.

More hip swaying caused his toes to curl. He wanted to touch her, to lick her neck and trail his way to her breasts and further down. Thoughts that never arose before appeared to him. Oh, the things he wanted to do to this girl.

Kankuro's actions were becoming clearer and clearer with every bounce of her breasts and every time she bent over in front of him. He understood why Kankuro danced so closely behind girls and why the phrase "tig o' bitties make a man happy" was in existence.

"Oh, shit," Gaara hissed to himself, watching the bra hit the ground.

Something snapped inside him, then. He sprung up from the couch and grabbed onto Keta's wrist with one hand and scooped up her abandoned clothing with the other, pulling her toward the back exit door.

"Lord Kazekage, there's a no-touching rule!" Keta objected as he dragged her outside.

Being as gentle as possible, he pushed her behind a dumpster and threw her clothes at her, which she clumsily caught. Face burning and pants tight, Gaara turned his back to her.

"Put your clothes on, now," he ordered.

"But Lor-"

"_Now._"

Soft rustles were heard from behind him until Keta walked out to face him. Gaara scanned her body before sighing and lifting the black shirt that Kankuro had told him to wear over his head.

"Put this on."

"I don't underst-"

"Do it."

The shirt was long on her, but tight around her breasts. Gaara crossed his arms over his bare chest and glared down at her. Keta somewhat coward at the look in his eyes. He was upset, no doubt. He often had that look as he walked through the streets after long meetings with the village elders.

"What are you doing, Keta?" Gaara demanded to know.

"Um, standing here with you," she replied. She had always been a smart-ass, even when she was younger.

"Be serious."

A defeated grin snuck onto her face. "I'm trying to make my way in this piece of shit village," she snapped.

Instead of being offended as expected of the Kazekage, Gaara only stared at her. He knew what sort of background she came from. Her mother had left when she was very young and her father was an abusive alcoholic. He also knew that Keta had recently run away from home to start a life of her own.

"I don't see why what I do is so bad to you, Lord Kazekage," Keta continued, lashing out at him in frustration. "Its not like I'm having sex with random men for money like other girls do. So what if guys see my boobs? They're nothing special. Your brother seems to enjoy my company."

Gaara didn't allow his eyes to stray from hers. As her voice rose, tears sprang to them. He realized just how much bottled-up anger and hurt she had inside her. There were once days when he felt the same. There was no possible way he could be upset with her for feeling that way.

"You're better than this, Keta," he told her sincerely once she had somewhat calmed down. Curious eyes flashed to meet his again. "When we were younger, everyone knew you would make a fine Kunoichi. You were the brightest out of us all. You memorized the lessons like they were child's play. You never fell behind."

A soft blush caressed her cheeks. "What are you saying, Gaara?"

Gaara's head tilted to the side slightly and a reassuring hand was placed on her shoulder. "I'm saying that this isn't the only way to make a living in this village. What you're doing is dangerous business. It makes me worry about you." The sides of his mouth turned up in a gentle smirk. "You're better than this," he repeated.

Keta only stared at the man in front of her, completely speechless. Kind words were outlandish to her. Her focus moved to the warm touch of his hand. The only sort of physical contact she was used to were slaps across the face or glass bottles being thrown at her.

"If you see Kankuro, could you tell him I've gone home?" Gaara asked, lifting his hand to pat her shoulder. "Remember what I said, all right?"

She stood and watched him walk away, disappearing into the darkness within seconds. Her hand clenched his shirt as if it were the only thing pushing her forward.

For three weeks, Keta popped into Gaara's thoughts at random moments of the day. It was usually when he was alone in his office, listening to Kankuro complaining about the married life.

"I don't know how long I can keep this up," the puppeteer hissed, burying his face in his hands as he sat on a padded chair in front of Gaara's desk. "I mean, she has really weird food cravings and throws up every morning. It makes me wonder if every wife does that."

Although he would never admit it to his brother, Gaara personally didn't think the married life was as bad as Kankuro made it out to be. Knowing full well why Nanako suffered from morning sickness and odd cravings, he shrugged off his older brother's words, normally replying with a nod of his head.

"Shall we start this?" Gaara questioned, making room on his desk for the piles of paper that were soon coming.

The search for a new secretary was starting that day. The old one recently married to none other than the Kazekage's brother, and decided to quit her job to take on more customary wife-roles around their house.

As woman after woman (and sometimes man) came in and sat through an interview with him and Kankuro, Gaara slowly felt as if he would never find the right one. Nanako was the perfect secretary. She knew exactly how Gaara liked his papers filed, she knew just how nice to be when answering phones, and she was just the right level of "people person" to greet those seeking Gaara's presence.

None of these new people were like her.

There were some who were too chatty, too flirtatious, or too boring. A few said "like" too many times in a sentence, which was one thing that annoyed Gaara to no end. Some seemed to think it was an offer for a date instead of a job interview.

And Gaara had no choice but to say, "no" to the drunken man who sat on top of the papers on his desk, trying to strike a sexy pose for the brothers.

"Was that it?" Gaara asked after four and a half hours of signing "deny" on pieces of papers. He was at his breaking point. More human interaction that day would just drive him insane, again.

"One more," Kankuro mumbled, half asleep. He leaned on the desk, propping his chin up with his elbow. A trail of drool cascaded down his forearm.

"Come in!"

After a few seconds, the bulky door opened. A young woman entered, dressed in a very professional getup. Her brown hair was tied back into a tight bun and a thin circle of eyeliner traced her blue eyes. She held a black piece of fabric in her tiny hands.

"Good afternoon, Lord Kazekage, Lord Kankuro," she greeted, placing the fabric on the desktop. "I've come to return your shirt."

If Gaara hadn't known to keep his composure, he was sure his mouth would've copied his brother's and fallen open.

"Thank you, Keta," Gaara muttered, placing a hand on his shirt.

"Uh, also…" She stopped short, obviously nervous.

"Yes?"

"I've come for a job interview."

Gaara stood from his chair, secretively shaking out his legs. After sitting for so long, he found it a little hard to walk again.

A larger hand was placed out in front of the girl. She looked up to meet his eyes and pleased smile.

"You've got the job, Keta," Gaara told her.

"What?" she whispered in a disbelieving way. She was just as confused as Kankuro (whose mouth was still hung open) was. "You're not going to interview me or anything?"

"I know what you're capable of. You start tomorrow morning, six o' clock sharp."

Keta ignored the one-sided handshake and jumped toward him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. Hysterical giggles escaped her mouth. "Thank you so much, Lord Kazekage," she told him. "I thought about everything you said, and you were right. I am better than that."

Gaara returned the tight hug, mentally admiring the vanilla smell of her hair. "I'm glad."

The squeak of chair legs against the floor tore them away from each other. Kankuro had stood and was already half-way out of the room.

"Where are you going?" Gaara questioned as Kankuro placed a hand on the doorknob.

Kankuro stopped and turned toward the two, an odd expression on his face. It had been years since he looked that way.

"I'm better than what I've been doing. I'm going to take care of my family."


End file.
